Dead Yet
by Writer is Ninja
Summary: Rosalie was envious, until she got to know the girl. “She feels nothing,” Jasper warned, alarmed and shivering. “Cold.” Fem!Harry/Edward, Twilight/Harry Potter crossover. ABANDONED, up for Adoption.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Twilight does not belong to me. Harry Potter does not belong to me. Copyright infringement is not intended.

A/N: **Oleander is shortened to Lee** sometimes. I know the Hayabusa GSX1300R came out in 2007; it's the fastest thing I could find in dark red. **Since Bella came in 2006, that makes this a year later when Jacob is 16. **The Chevrolet Corvette was a 2006 model, I believe.

A/N2: This is actually **post-Bella**. Jessica said something similar, but not that same thing, in the cafeteria to Bella – well, imagine it if it's _too_ similar.

Summary: Rosalie was envious, until she got to know the girl. "She feels _nothing_," Jasper warned, alarmed and shivering. "Cold." Bella/Edward, Bella/OC, _Edward/Fem!Harry_, Jacob/Reneesme, AU. Twilight/Harry Potter crossover.

_Dead Yet_

***

**Prologue **

"Pain hardens, and great pain hardens greatly, whatever the comforters say, and suffering does not ennoble, though it may occasionally lend a certain rigid dignity of manner to the suffering frame." – Antonia S. Byatt

_I'd never given much thought to how I would die – though I'd had reason enough in the last few __years, what with the war, and Africa, South America… too many places to name – but even if I had, I would not have imagined it like this._

_He made me stop to smile at the colour of the world. He made me laugh like I hadn't in… years. I smiled, I joked, but we all have our masks, and he broke down all barriers. Ironically, he seemed more human than I could ever hope to be. When I came to Forks, I had never expected something like this.  
_

_I stared without breathing across the long room, into the dark eyes of the hunter, and he looked pleasantly back at me._

_Surely it was a good way to die, in the place of someone else, someone I loved. Noble, even. That ought to count for something._

_I knew that if I'd never gone to Forks, I wouldn't be facing death right now. But, terrified as I was, I couldn't bring myself to regret the decision. When life offers you a dream so far beyond any of your expectations, it's unreasonable to grieve when it comes to an end. _

_The hunter smiled in a friendly way as he sauntered forward to kill me._

**Chapter One:**

**Two Days Too Long**

She had her pretty black hair bound in a braid, beautiful light blue eyes, that olive skin tone only Italians can get, and made jeans and a t-shirt look good. That wasn't what had Rosalie staring, though.

There was a little boy she was carrying.

He had black curly hair and his mother's pretty eyes (only with more innocence), and curiously peered up from his mother's shoulder – and then snuggled his back into her neck and shoulder shyly. Automatically Rosalie loved him and hated the woman – she had a baby, a beautiful baby, where Rosalie could have none. She was human, and could live a human existence, a happy existence.

Rosalie was too busy staring at the baby. She didn't see what Edward saw.

*

"Edward Cullen," he introduced with a nod, towards the end of class.

"Oleander Potter, but you knew that."

The bell rang. With a nod in reply, she headed off to Physics. Advanced Physics Honors. Joy. She may understand it from Sci-Fi, but that didn't mean she liked the math – thank gods she had a class where everyone was cheating off of the smarter people.

The teacher wasn't that competent, actually _giving_ the answer when he helped you with a problem. So, she asked a lot of questions, and he liked her enough that he had talked about giving her a recommendation – _this_ early in the year. She may plan on going to a community college somewhere, but it would be almost _too_ easy now. She had a rec. from her history teacher at her previous school, too – historical fiction and the boring easiness of simple worksheets (obviously from lack of creativity and budget) made it all too easy, in her last school. This was History through Film and Music – so they watched old black and white movies, sometimes silent movies – and listened to actual records. It was easy, since the teacher slept most of the time, old and nearing the grave as she was; too many years teaching had sucked out all interest in the subject, Lee figured. She'd ask for a rec. in that class too, since it was a different teacher.

English, for the writing, and Art were her best subjects. They didn't have a chorus class, but she had joined the local church's choir to make up for it – she'd been in chorus since third grade, but it would look better as an extra curricular, Lee knew. She'd already taken her gym requirement, so she joined the Journalism class – where they only worked on the school paper, pretty much – and had it last period. Math was her worst subject, and she still got an A- in it. Yes, she was an Honor Roll student – and she'd already done all of the work here, most 'til the end of the year, and she was in Honors classes across the board. This would be a boring, easy year. Thank God for work or she'd go insane.

Oleander worked three jobs; illustration for books and comics, secretary (under the table), and through the internet she edited books for a small fee. She also bought and re-sold things on E-Bay, for extra cash. With her father throwing money at her to so that he could boink his secretary in peace, too, she was quite wealthy, not that her trust fund wasn't large enough to begin with. The Potters had been businessmen and -women for generations on generations. They were Old Money.

Her father, naturally, only held his vacation home in Forks, having several houses elsewhere, but supposedly he lived there – _supposedly_. The actuality was different; James lived in planes, First Class, wracking up the frequent flier miles – she often got gifts from that. Hell, for her birthday James had handed Oleander a blank check and said "go buy a car". Since it was a blank check, Lee didn't feel guilty taking more. She had chosen the Chevy Corvette with a Monterey Red Metallic Tintcoat, and it drove like freakin' dream; on top of that, she'd gotten a Suzuki Hayabusa GSX1300R sports bike – motorcycle, that is, in a dark red. Yes, she liked red; it was her color.

Lily was a pale that only those of Irish heritage could reach and James had a real golden tan from all the trips he took, but Oleander had inherited the looks of her Grams, Dorea Black; the olive skin tone of Italians that looked tan even in winter pale. She had her mother's emerald eyes and, unfortunately, her father's hair; luckily, now that she didn't wear it short it no longer stuck up in all directions; down below her bra-strap it fell in a wave of glossy curls. Before it had been impossible to tame; Lee had figured that that was because it was naturally curly, and she'd been right. Despite her eyes making people insist on greens (her mother, overbearing before the divorce, for example), reds and blues really suited her better. Luckily, she had also gained her Grams' gift; to shapeshift. It was more than metamorphmagus ability, too. She made her eyes light blue, since she was in a new town, and controlled her health with it.

Lunch! She'd had history first thing, then English, physics, and now lunch. It was a good setup. She got extra sleep in the morning. After this she had art, math, and then journalism; she could relax before math, and then again after. Thankfully she'd already taken her gym requirement.

"Hi. I'm Angela Weber," the girl said softly. She seemed shy.

"Oleander Potter – call me Lee." They shook hands. "Hey, you're in the journalism class, right? What's it like?" Without knowing it she had just picked the perfect ice-breaker; for most of lunch they talked about it. The conversation dwindled, and her attention waned somewhat. "Who are _they_?"

Jessica-whatever looked over, immediately adding her unwanted opinion.

"Them? That's Edward and Alice Cullen, and Rosalie and Jasper Hale. The one who left was Emmett Cullen. They're from Alaska and live with Dr. Cullen and his wife."

"They are… very striking," she struggled with the conspicuous understatement.

"Yes!" Jessica agreed with another giggle. "They're all _together_ – Emmett and Rosalie, and Jasper and Alice. And they _live_ together," she added in a whisper as if this was some big, _terrible_ secret. If I was honest, it would have invited talk even back in Manchester – England that is – not when she'd lived in Boston (Massachusetts) really, though….

"Which ones are the Cullens?" she asked. "Besides Edward; I met him in class. I mean, they don't _look_ related…."

"Oh, they're not. Dr. Cullen is really young, in his twenties or early thirties. They're all adopted. Rosalie and Jasper – the blondes – _are_ brother and sister, twins – and they're foster children."

"That's really kind of nice – for them to take care of all those kids like that, when they're so young and everything. Not many people will do something like that."

"Yeah," Jessica said reluctantly; probably jealous, from the way she looked at them. "I think it's because Mrs. Cullen can't have kids though."

Oleander's gaze grew icy cold.

"What?"

"The next time you plan to say something rude like that, think of who else might find it insulting. My _godchildren _are orphans."

Luckily the bell rang, because I stormed off to my locker.

"I'm sorry about your goddkids; loosing their parents, I mean."

Angela's very real sympathy cooled Oleander's temper a bit.

"Thanks," she nodded. Not many were so sympathetic, since the girl was… _well_….

"What are their names, if I can ask?"

"Jackie and Teddy," Oleander smiled, "Jacqueline Clarisse and Theodore David Lupin; they're real cuties; loving, gentle; sweethearts, really. They live with Uncle Sirius now, in La Push; that's why I moved here. Wouldn't want to split the Golden Quartet," she said, her smile bittersweet. Alice listened in closely.

"The Golden Quartet?" Angela asked, shaping the clay they'd gotten. Lee quickly began doing the same to her own piece; a lily and oleander intertwined, she thought.

"Mmm. There's Sirius' daughter Gracie, who's four, Jackie and Teddy, who're three, and my Christopher, who's three as well. Sirius has a daughter who's fourteen too, though; Persephone. Sort of awkward when you consider his half-brother's sixteen."

"Ouch. _Your_ Chris? – And sorry if I'm prying."

"You're not prying; I'm new when you've known these people your whole life; it's pretty natural to be curious. Besides, I'd tell you if you were. Anyway, Chris is my son."

"Did his father…?"

"Let's just say there were issues."

Angela knew not to go further on _that_ topic and asked instead about the kids; Lee practically waxed poetic on the subject, and Alice smiled to herself at it. Angela left for a different class when Oleander had math, and Alice bounced over to sit beside her. There were no assigned seats, and the teacher was actually good at teaching, surprisingly. Jasper was next to Alice on the other side.

"Hi! I'm Alice Cullen, and this is my boyfriend Jasper Hale."

"A pleasure." She wasn't much big on the friends thing, but couldn't bring herself to tell the cheery girl no. Alice seemed too nice, and Jasper was quiet at least. Thankfully they were only taking notes today, copying off the board, and she had already done this; Lee doodled in the margins some, taking her time. It appeared you could talk in this class so long as you got your work done – good for Alice, bad for her; not that she didn't like the girl, but she wouldn't be able to stand talking that much all the time. Thankfully, the girl seemed to accept her lack of response except for nods and 'hmm's. Oleander actually _was_ listening, though. Halfway through class with nothing to do, she turned more attention towards Alice, jotting down little notes here and there.

When it was time for journalism class, Oleander smiled slightly and waved her goodbye. Alice was nice enough, and Jasper she could come to like just for his quietness in comparison to his girlfriend, but she wasn't really the friends type. She'd only ever had two before, Neville and Luna. Ginny could be counted maybe, but she was more Luna's friend; plus, that crush on her older brother… ugh, no. Ginny had been annoying, trying to pump her for information on Sam. Now that she was an in-law she wasn't so bad, but they weren't _close_ either. So, Neville and Luna, who were marrying this coming summer. They understood her need to work an unnatural amount of hours, though. Others would be less than understanding if she forgot them while advancing her career.

Alice saw something else as she left, though; a possibility:

"_What are you painting?" he murmured, wrapping his arms around her waist._

"_A client wants a book cover done like a portrait, and some fake photograph – you know the ones with the white borders that came straight out of the camera – in black and white and sepia tones. I'm doing the photographs now."_

"_Ah. Will the paint need to dry anytime soon?" he asked suggestively._

"_I can be convinced. Twenty minutes."_

"_Twenty minutes," he agreed._

_She'd scan the photographs that were dry and digitalize them later._

Alice bounced, squealing below human hearing. The lighting was dim even to a vampire, but she recognized the voice. Jasper rubbed his ears. She had killed both of his eardrums and wouldn't even tell him why.

"Hey Angela."

"Lee. This is Ryan Acada, Head Editor. Ryan, Lee Potter," Angela introduced shyly.

They said their hellos and got straight to business; Angela wandered off to her work station while they talked.

"Do you have any experience with writing?"

"Well, not officially, but I'm writing a book and… have you heard of ?"

"Sure, who hasn't?"

"Anyone not in the industry," she laughed, "but that's _my_ website. I also do some work in illustration, if you need that. Though, with Angela around, I don't think you will."

Angela always carried a camera with her. Ryan acknowledged it with a nod.

"Well we could use another editor, if you don't mind. I'm the only one here; they just call me the Head Editor to make me seem important."

"No problem at all. I joined the class, didn't I? Can I bring work to school if I have extra time, though? I mean, I wouldn't mind doing a few articles, but…."

"Yeah, sure. Why not? The faculty advisor won't mind. I mean, she goes out for lunch and leaves us on our own. Though _sometimes_ she eats it here."

Oleander laughed, but it rang false in her ears. It always did.

He set her up at a table/desk with a computer and then handed her disks. The first one he needed by the next day, two more by Thursday and the other two sometime before the next Wednesday. It was an easy schedule for a workaholic used to doing twenty pages at a time, for certain. He must have been giving her an easy start. She was done with all but one by the end of class, and asked for a couple more to work on at home and school the next day. He pointed her towards the pile on his desk with a large smile, looking very relieved to have help. She could see why.

When the bell rang she headed straight to the car. She drove up to La Push in the 'vette to pick up Chris, thanking Jacob more than Sirius, since she figured that he was the more responsible one, much to Sirius' faked consternation. Lee thanked their father Billy too of course; he'd probably reined Sirius in. Jacob and Sirius had the same father and different mothers – "Mrs." Black (who'd wanted to be the _late _Mrs. Black, if you caught her drift) had unfortunately gotten custody of the man-child. She regretted it immediately when he hit the terrible twos. Billy's second wife Sarah had given him two more children before Jacob; Rachel and Rebecca. Sarah had died; and although Lee wasn't sure from what, she got the feeling that it had been quite sudden and unexpected.

At any rate, she stayed to talk to Jacob about cars for a couple of hours before she left back to her place. She took a shower after; Sirius smelled like _wet dog_. Lee had had to give Chris a bath too; luckily he loved the water. She'd planned to start bringing him to school with her starting the next week, and while grateful to the Blacks was glad she had decided on it. She knew about Padfoot, but gods if he didn't need a shower.

She hadn't done anything but a two minute trip to the grocery store, so the dinner she made was simple; hotdogs. She cut Chris' up into tiny little pieces, of course, as she wasn't about to let her baby boy choke. Thank the gods that ketchup was her vegetable of choice; she'd picked it up automatically with the hotdogs and milk – and Coke. That was hard to get in England. Then she washed his face, let him go potty, and sat him in front of the TV for a half hour. Bedtime was six thirty for him. Then Lee went to do what little homework she had, worked on editing academic papers and books and other things until nine-thirty, took a fifteen minute shower and curled up on the couch in pajamas watching the cooking channel until ten-thirty. With an exhausting day of endless questions about herself, she was ready to collapse by then.

She woke up at three am (four was her usual) and made coffee; Lee wouldn't be going back to sleep. Yes, _coffee_. Just because she was British didn't mean she liked tea all that much – only Chai, and only in the afternoon or evening. Speaking of, she made some to put in a thermos to bring to lunch. She didn't blame the Cullens for leaving their trays untouched yesterday; the food was truly disgusting. Even the salad hadn't looked right. Oleander made herself a peanut butter and tomato sandwich for lunch too; it tasted better than it sounded (though the first time she'd dropped the tomato in by accident). A banana and chocolate dip, too, for a snack. She balanced the unhealthy with the healthy, except on rare occasion, and she'd need the chocolate to deal with the sheep.

Then Oleander worked on some of the articles for the paper for a while; switching back and forth between that and a futuristic "historical fiction", the history parts being the present day. It was an interesting read, and the author wasn't near as bad as he thought he was in grammar, although he had a problem with the tenses.

Lee got ready for school with simple jeans and a button-up over a t-shirt; she'd have to buy new jeans – they were sort of tight. She hoped that she wasn't gaining weight (of course, they also hugged her ass, though she didn't notice). Throwing her unruly curls up into a simple ponytail, she put on a thin hooded jacket with her faded jean jacket over it. She took the sleeping Chris and a bag for him (he was still in his pajamas) and drove him up to La Push. Billy greeted her with a smile; Jacob and Sirius were still sleeping.

School that day was boring, which she was grateful for; except for playing Lady Macbeth in English, with Edward Cullen as Macbeth. She'd always liked that play, and he was nice to look at even if she _didn't_ want any romantic attachments. Lunch came.

"Do you want to sit with us?"

Oleander paused, then waved apologetically to Angela.

"Sure."

_What the Hell is she doing?_

_What the f –?_

_Is that the new girl? What is she doing with__…?_

_Is she sitting with the __**Cullens**__?!_

"Alice?" Edward hissed.

"Don't worry; I can see her. She's nice."

This was, of course, said below human hearing levels. Emmett just shrugged. _Whatever._ If she wanted a new human into their lives… well, he trusted her. Rosalie, however, glared enviously. This girl had a baby, the only thing Rosalie had ever wanted besides getting her humanity back. The girl glared back, briefly, then turned to listen to Alice, who was gabbing her mouth off.

"I don't think this is even tuna," Lee said halfway through lunch, poking at Emmett's. "It looks like beef product drenched in mayo and fish juice."

The others cringed. Emmett and Edward laughed.

"Sounds about right."

Oleander nodded. "Glad I brought my lunch. I'm not surprised none of you have touched yours. I hope that you eat at home, though." _I bet the roll tastes like the cardboard box it came in, too. Now I remember why I bag lunch. Ugh. Tea, tea, tea – before I throw up._

Jasper, Alice and Rosalie had been discretely getting up to throw bits of their lunches away, but none of them had touched the tuna. It _smelled_ like beef product in fish juice and mayonnaise. With chicken broth. Eeew; just yuck.

"We do."

Edward brought the conversation back around to Lee's old school. Oleander was distracted, luckily. Actually, she became distracted by some tinfoil at one point, making Edward smirk. A _"sharp and shiny_ _complex"_, as was her rueful thought, _indeed_. They talked about the ridiculousness of the rumor mill – "So I'm a British spy, now? Since when were we at war with England?" – and classical music – "Für Elise, actually" – and other topics. She had an eclectic taste in music, certainly; actually, she had eclectic taste in general. Then he saw it in her bag and had to comment.

"That's beautiful. Did you make it?" Edward asked, putting it gently on the table. It was a wall hanging of sorts, made of beautifully painted intertwined flowers.

"Yup! In art class!" Alice supplied for her. "It's supposed to symbolize something."

"What did you pick?" Jasper asked quietly.

"The women on my mother's side," Lee smiled. It wasn't quite genuine, though she was trying to make it so, Jasper felt. "Grandmum Rose and her sister Orchid are the two at the top. My mum Lily and her sister Petunia below that, and then me."

"What's the little wilted one at the bottom?" Emmett asked in curiosity.

Jasper put a hand to his chest, gasping silently at the pain as she smiled sadly.

"Chris was supposed to be a twin. I… I lost the other baby, but I was going to name her Poppy, for my midwife. I… excuse me, please."

Grabbing her bag, she rushed to the ladies' room for a good cry. The flowers were left on the table. Emmett stared down at them, feeling awful. Edward put a hand on his shoulder, not feeling too well himself, and Jasper looked faint from the emotions. Alice quickly steadied him. Rosalie looked down at her lap.

_I envied this, when there's so much pain? __**Still**__ envy the girl – no, woman, she's a woman – the child she does have? What the __**Hell**__ is wrong with me?_

Edward's head shot up.

"Nothing, Rose. It's natural to feel that way." The others were curious, but didn't ask.

Alice's eyes glazed over, then her head popped up with a smile.

"She'll feel better by the end of art, and you'll feel better by math, Rosalie."

She had calculus with them. Alice had already taken Trig, unlike Edward, even if she had another year at school like he did. She'd wanted it over with as soon as possible, so she'd had taken it as a summer course – which took no time at all for a person who didn't – couldn't – sleep.

Rosalie put the flower hanging delicately in her bag.

"This is yours," Rosalie said very softly, almost cringing, later in math.

"Thanks," Lee smiled, putting it back in her bag. The vampire gave her an odd look. "It's a reminder of when I painted the nursery, when I bought teddy bears and bottles and gods know how many diapers. It will remind me of the good times as much as the bad."

"Strength through adversity," Rosalie said quietly, sitting behind her.

"I guess," Oleander shrugged simply.

"How… how can you not be a mess right now?" she whispered. Esme always cried when talking about her lost baby, and she rarely talked about it at all.

"We all have masks. The day won't end because I want it to."

Her smile rang false now.

"No one is more profoundly sad as one who laughs too much." _- __Jean Paul._

***


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Twilight does not belong to me. Harry Potter does not belong to me. Some parts are quoted from The Official Site of Suzuki®. Copyright infringement is not intended.

A/N: I know next to nothing about motorcycles or cars. Parts are **quoted** from the official Suzuki website, as I said in the disclaimer.

Summary: Rosalie was envious, until she got to know the girl. "She feels _nothing_," Jasper warned, alarmed and shivering. "Cold." Bella/Edward, Bella/OC, _Edward/Fem!Harry_, Jacob/Reneesme, AU. Twilight/Harry Potter crossover.

_Dead Yet_

***

**Chapter Two:**

**Fears and Weaknesses**

"People are never machines, even when they want to be. You have to start somewhere." – The Charioteer by Mary Renault

Oleander Potter was scared. That had never stopped her before, though.

Defiant in the face of Death Eaters, battle, torture, and Voldemort himself, she was helpless against this one man. He wasn't even particularly scary looking.

She should have remembered that the nice ones were dangerous.

Her mother had offered a token "don't get pregnant". She hadn't really had any choice in the matter.

The war had effected her badly. She had screaming nightmares of the children in that dungeon, tortured without care for their age. Some had been raped. She had been raped. But it had never been as bad as what he did. _After all, he was supposed to __**love**__ her._

It had been part of her training, the private training that she did if only Remus was nearby, to indoctrinate herself against rape. For hours and hours on end she would play a tape in an otherwise silent room, "Rape is not about sex. It is about power," over and over and over again. "They cannot take away your power." Oleander had been thorough in her preparation for the war. Rape was a good possibility. She'd been a colder woman after that, perhaps, but many people were war hardened. Other people, of either sex, had been raped too, and they still fought. She was cold outside of battle, but in it she was fire.

She had met him during the war. They had stopped traveling, training Sam (and her, to a lesser extent) and seeing the world with laughter just a few months before things started, knowing that, because of the prophecy, Sam would have to fight. James had left them five years before, when she was nine; Lee had then been fourteen and fighting for a year. He'd been romantic, charming, and not a spy. The man couldn't keep a secret to save his life, she'd thought. They were shieldmates, fighting together and laying together alike. The first time he'd hit her was just after a battle, when they got into an argument; Lee had pushed it off as adrenaline, in the abused mental state that they all were in. She shouldn't have.

He became possessive, but she didn't mind that so much. Lee was his girlfriend, right? People should know better than to make advances; their relationship was well-known; and anyway, she shouldn't be looking at people any more than he should. It was normal to get jealous if your partner looked at others. So she didn't. But he thought she was anyway, and they got into a few more of those post-battle arguments including hits. She was just as furious as he was – only she wasn't. She didn't hit him back, and it just got easier and easier for him to hit her over time. It got to the point where she was afraid to leave. There were things worse than death, she well-knew, so Oleander threw herself into battle; better to die on the field than in their rooms as a victim. If there were bruises; well, everyone had a few from the last battle, didn't they? She hadn't had any choice about sex anymore, either. If he wanted it, he got it.

Then Poppy told her that she was pregnant. With twins. He hit her that night, and she left – while she still had the will power to. Lee had asked to be assigned to a different squadron, as a medic –magical armor would protect the babies enough for the first three months, and she'd be inside anyway, wouldn't she? It wasn't like she was a field medic. She worked until about seven months along, then took to her bed (not _looking_ pregnant – good genes – but exhausted). Poppy was her midwife of choice. Devastatingly, only one child came out screaming. Her little girl was stillborn. Crashing from all that she'd been put through, Lee had had to be strapped down to the bed in her Postpartum Depression. She'd gone for knives and, when someone found her bleeding out (quickly, she'd cut lengthwise), been strapped down anyway, but when released tried again, and they didn't release you a second time.

It took a long regime of calming and cheering potions (and chocolate) 'til Lee was ready to see her son. She'd held him and cried, unable to maintain her coldness around the little angel; but off the cheering potions, she wasn't happy. So she smiled for him and her mother, and her brother who needed her strength, and sometimes pretend became real and sometimes it didn't, but it was hers.

With the baby, she couldn't afford to be in a war zone for long, though; Oleander moved in with her father. He was surprised about having a grandchild but otherwise nice, but after the novelty wore off was rarely ever at home; he had a girlfriend and businesses and a life in Spain. Lee was only happy with her son, anyway, and had to pretend less, but it was lonelier than Hogwarts even at the height of the war; someone was always busy doing something and she missed the sounds in the background a lot. When the war ended in 2006, Sam killing Voldemort at seventeen, just after her sixteenth birthday, Lee went back to live with her mother. The war had left Lily tired, though. Trained as a mediwitch _and_ a doctor, she was trying to do both – working two fulltime jobs. Oleander quickly got a job at a muggle café to have background noise that wasn't reporters and photographers. She got learned to drive, tried to catch up with all the schoolwork she had missed (and felt lucky to have a muggleborn mother), and tried to live again. Slowly, it began to work, even if it wasn't a particularly happy life; she had her son, and _that_ made her happy.

He followed her. She quickly followed her mother to Massachusetts and took out a restraining order against him. He didn't care, and followed again. She ran.

Her running had led her to peaceful, _non-magical_ Forks. It was a blessing.

"Lee!" he called, jogging up to her. He handed her, her single-strapped (though it hadn't started out that way) knapsack. She breathed a sigh of relief. That had been with her through forests and jungles, the wilds and the war. It had pins and patches covering it to prove that, too. "You dropped this in the hall."

"_Thank you_, Edward."

If she was perhaps too grateful for a simple kindness, he didn't comment.

She picked up Chris from La Push, but didn't stay to talk long. Sirius understood the haunted look in her eyes; he'd been involved in the war too, before Persephone's mum had died and he'd found out about her; his wife Elaine, Lee's godmother, had died giving them little Gracie in childbirth. They'd left England to live in the small village – it couldn't be called any less – of the Quileute tribe where Sirius' father lived before that, though. She'd missed the mutt, to be honest. He could always make her smile some; and did, before he left. Lee still went strait home and turned on classical music to fill up the silence, though. She hated being alone, but didn't make friends well – well, _real _friends that wouldn't lose interest and flutter away like the butterflies they were. She should write to Luna and Nev, though. They'd seen her through the war and cared for her baby when she couldn't; which made them want to get married to have one of their own, actually. She'd have to see that Luna didn't pick any noxious colors, particularly for the bridesmaids' dresses. No way was she wearing yellow and fuchsia again.

And she wouldn't _ever_ pretend to like it.

Of course, since she was best friends with a girl who wanted to be a _mad_ scientist for a living, she couldn't exactly complain. Oleander wasn't quite sane either. But then, who was in a world like this? They were just a bit stranger than most. Okay, so anyplace but the wizarding world Luna would probably get locked up in an asylum, but still! They had never mooned anybody, which was more than some could say! Flashing someone was a different story. Oleander _loved_ strip poker. Of course, the first (and only) things to go had been the shirt and bra. Luna had just stripped.

Okay, different topic.

She went to the grocery store to stock up for the week, made homemade chicken fingers for dinner, and worked on her _own_ story some. It was a fantasy novel with a dash of romance, a lot of danger, and some angst thrown in for kicks – and to further the plot. Her style was to get into the character's head as best she could. After an hour of that she did homework; math – bleh, English she'd just hand in the paper for her previous school (correspondence course; whatever), and for physics she looked for the website that the worksheet was from and, low and behold, there were the answers. Yes it was cheating; did she care? No. Science wouldn't get her an English degree, and she'd already done the work for English. Why do it again? E-mails to Luna and Neville went out (Nev couldn't work a computer even still, poor deprived pureblood – it was Luna's), finished edited pages went out, more work was edited, and the house was cleaned. She used the loo and went to bed at around midnight; she got up at four.

Yes, Lee was a restless workaholic. That went without saying.

An insomniac she may be, but the first thing she saw in the morning was a coffee pot, gaze blurry with sleep before it came into her vision. She worshipped it more than any god, her coffee. Once she'd poured one mug down her throat and was sipping at her second, Oleander went to her art room, making sure to set an alarm clock. She often lost track of time in there, and she still needed to get dressed and drive Chris up to La Push for the day. Ugh, well, that paintbrush was ruined. Turpentine sucked sometimes.

Dark neon blue joined the red; she was an interesting character, Mercia. The blue was her leather trench coat, diagonally striped with black; Mercia wore bright yellow stockings, a shockingly purple shirt with an orange sash, and white go-go boots. Yes, an interesting character. Luckily she was a blonde and not a redhead – she'd clash too badly for words. She was based on Luna, vaguely. She at least had the woman's sense of style.

The phone; she should answer that.

Mercia was a Diviner, much more than a seer, in the comic series. Well, she said it was a comic, but it was really a book with painted comic book panels as art. Like many others of the books that were too sucky for her to get published, in her belief, she planned to have it bound in leather when it was done. Neon yellow and blue leather, actually; the series was bound in shocking colors, unlike her other more tame ones; it was a _story_ of shocking color.

Oh. The phone; she'd forgotten about that….

Red. Dots of red made up blood splatter. She had actually asked a specialist on the blood splatter bit to make it more realistic. He had sent her diagrams; she had sent him cookies. It worked out well. _Damn it; that part's not dry yet. Hmm, not liking the texture of this bit either. A black leather cord, gold ring __**very**__ slowly… ruby in the center; now to get the look of platinum, just the right combination of grey and silver… done! _Her fingernails were done in neon pink. She was wearing gladiator heels so…_ yeah, green for the toes. Dark green, forest. __**And…**__ done! _Until the paint dried, at least_._

She shut off the alarm – twenty minutes left – and went to make a breakfast of cinnamon toast and a snack for lunch of the same, only with cut up banana in it. It still needed something, though… ah, fluff! That would work. Now for her actual lunch… a ham and cheese sandwich, a package of sharp cheddar on the side (she'd probably eat about half of it), and an icepack to keep it cold. The first one she found was frozen solid; that would work. Passing the phone in the hall, she paused at the blinking answering machine, confused. _**Oh**__… phone. Right. _She'd forgotten about that….

"Hello Oleander. I wanted to warn you the Flitterbyes in your hair will attract a Snargle today. They like the scent…. And don't worry about Edward; all will turn out right in the end. Though, there may be time before that, and Lily's fine. Samuel is in the paper again, by the way. He might have attracted a RitaSkeeter bug. Nastily cruel, those things are. Oh and tell Alice I said hi, and the answer is The Crucible."

So she should use a scent screen for some reason beyond her comprehension, her mother was doing well, and Sam had drawn the attention of Rita Skeeter. She had no idea what that Edward Cullen business was, though. He was only her English partner. Lee didn't realize that she automatically knew that Luna was talking about Edward Cullen – then again, the only other Edward went by Eddie, so…. The last one was just Luna being Luna; of course, she _would_ tell Alice, and Luna knew it, the manipulative little…! She knew not to put a mystery in front of Lee; her curiosity would see it through.

Chris was up in La Push with Persephone – sadly, the most mature of the kids – and in this she included Sirius – and Oleander took in the scenes as she went. It was all a vague blur of green with the yellow stripes of the road. She stopped paying any attention to the green at all, once her speedometer read seventy. She'd rigged it, though; Lee was going much faster than _that_. She was a maniac behind the wheel, or so she'd been told, but maybe that was because she did street racing – and she'd have to look out for some of that in Port Angeles or Seattle, as Forks wasn't big enough or the cars fast enough; plus it was sort of… illegal. She had a radar detector, not that she couldn't spot a cop at twenty paces anyway. Its cover made it look like part of the sound system.

Lee thought about the places she'd been and what she'd seen. She thought about her emergency pack and the things she kept in her purse. Both in the car and at home Lee had a camping backpack filled with survival equipment. The first thing being, of course, water bottles and MREs – they were disgusting, but she'd gotten used to them when that was all there was _to_ eat. She kept a waterproof pocket for cash, a respirator mask, two space blankets, a small hygiene kit, a medical first aid kit (and potions), gloves made for the arctic cold (literally), a mini mirror/emergency-whistle/compass/magnifying glass, a flashlight that you could bash someone over the head with and a heat-exchanging mask like skiers used. In the car itself were boots made for comfort and traction with the same traction additions that international bobsledding teams used, a hijab (headpiece worn by Muslim women) for heat protection and very light clothes. She had a mini life hammer with seatbelt slicer on her keychain, and around her waist always kept her Beretta Barrier Sweater, full zip (bought from a Herrington catalogue, of all things) and a great protector from wind, damp, and cold.

You'd carry all that too, if you might be in the Alps one week and Israel the week after, or maybe the Amazon or the desert or Greenland – or any number of places. Hell, she'd been on old fishing boats in storms, and still carried a life raft – and an air mattress, so much better than cots. She thought about the baby bag for her little boy that carried similar things, and she thought about Lily in Boston and Sam in London. Lee thought about a lot of things on her way to school, and didn't pay any attention to the teachers except for English that day – Macbeth again, Act I Scene III with Scene IV read for homework. Lee would reread it, though she didn't need to. She sat with Angela for a bit at lunch, but her memories were interrupted by people asking about her sitting with the Cullens the day before; so, aggravated, she asked if she could sit with them again, with an apologetic smile to Angela as she stormed from the table.

The Cullens, at least, didn't bother her, and she had an interesting conversation with Edward on the differences between piano (which he played) and the violin (which she played). It was the most adult conversation she'd had in a while, and Lee enjoyed it, not paying a whit of attention to the other Cullens (without her noticing). Alice smiled secretively the whole time, singing Goodnight and Go by Imogen Heap in her head if Edward looked, which he was too busy talking to do. Edward burst out laughing at her opinion on Lisa Parks as they headed to their lockers before lunch ended.

For that alone, Rosalie could try to like her.

Edward had laughed and smiled more since this little human had come into his life than he ever had. With that Bella girl – who she'd been right about – he had smirked a lot more, and smiled some, but it wasn't laughter. Now he was happier than Rosalie had ever seen him, and… when Edward laughed, the woman joined in – genuinely. Her laugh for everyone else rang false, although only to a vampire paying close attention, but with Edward her smiles and laughter were real – she didn't pretend with him. It was something Rosalie decided she liked. It was more honest, she felt. Bella had been fascinated, the word _dazzled_ sprang to mind, but this was different. It was the start of a slow courtship, without Edward's previous fear of being with a human – he'd handled himself with the other girl well and he knew that. Her blood had been so much more potent, too. _Maybe that baby can be a part of our lives after all_, but the thought was quiet enough to slip by her brother's notice. They'd have to be extra careful, but it would be with it, Rose knew. She smiled to herself. It was nice to see him truly happy for once.

Edward's locker was two up from Oleander's and Rosalie's was to the left of his; it gave a perfect view. She smelt them before she saw them. A bouquet fell out of the woman's locker. She slowly bent down to pick them up.

"An Oleander in the card… caution; beware," Lee frowned. "Flower language. Yellow roses, friendship; Jasmine, amiability; Ivy, fidelity and friendship; Red Gardenias, you're lovely, secret love; Red Tulips… a tentative declaration of love…." Looking for romance or not, Oleander slowly smiled, shaking her head with a joyful laugh. Lee had never had this happen to her before. The card was unsigned, though. "A secret love indeed," she smiled to herself. Edward stared fixedly into his locker.

Rosalie could guess who it was from, and she fought to stifle a small smile. If the courting had started a bit early, it was only because you could see just how hard he was falling. She had the definite feeling he would take it slowly with this one though; no need to rush like the last time. Besides, he'd have to soften that shell first; although she looked flattered, she also looked confused, like she couldn't figure out _why_. Although confusion looked cute on her, Rosalie had to admit.

Lee took the flowers with her to art; had them in her bag through the whole day, in fact. She'd never felt so flattered before. _He_ hadn't understood flower language at all, giving her a standard set of red roses when they started out. _But enough of that. Think about your secret admirer now. Though, they couldn't know me too well, yet, since I've just moved here… The gesture is nice, though._ She was still smiling when the bell rang after journalism, and slowly walked out to her car. It had been a good day.

She picked up Chris and spent a good three hours talking to the Blacks, before leaving with laughter on her lips. The romance part of her book was easy enough to write that day, certainly. She decided to go out to eat instead of cooking, and Joe's looked decent enough; homey.

None of the Cullens paid any attention when the bell rang to signal new customers coming in. They were talking quietly (for humans, that is) and didn't even notice.

"Hi, I'm Marissa Darwin! What can I get you?"

"Lee Potter," they could hear the smile in her voice, "a steak please, rare, and a burger medium rare for Chris, I think. Mashed potatoes for me and fries for him." 

Carlisle and Esme, not having met this little human that their children talked about so much, that made Edward smile again, paid close attention.

"You're James' daughter, right? How's he doing?"

"Yes, and he's doing fine. He and his girlfriend are in Italy now."

"He's not with Lily anymore?!" the woman exclaimed.

"Not since '99," she explained, seeming not at all upset. "It's no wonder he's not back often, though. It's where Sam was born."

"I remember that," Marissa nodded. "How _is_ your brother doing?"

"Oh, well enough. He's married now, to a sweet girl named Ginny."

"That's nice, and you?" Marissa then frowned in worry. "You're not living alone are you? If James isn't here with you…."

"I'm doing fine. Don't worry about it. I turn eighteen in a few months anyway, and I'm pretty much used to living alone – well, with Chris, of course. Mum works a lot, so…."

It was a lie, but then it wasn't. Carlisle cocked his head slightly. Marissa nodded, but still looked concerned for her.

"Sirius Black checks in every once in a while."

"_Oh_," she said, no longer looking concerned. "He was a friend of James', wasn't he?"

The Cullens, on the other hand, were frowning. Though the fact that he checked in was a lie, she _did_ know the wolves. _The Blacks again_, Rosalie sighed. Though, Sirius wasn't a shape shifter like the others…. Still, his daughters had inherited it.

"So, a burger medium rare with fries and mashed with steak, rare, right?"

"That sounds right," Lee agreed, smile returning. The waitress shook her head.

"Just like the Cullens, I swear."

"If they like it still mooing, yes," Oleander agreed.

Edward and the others had to smirk. How right she was. Alice turned around very casually and greeted Oleander as if she had just realized the woman was there.

"Lee! Hey, come sit with us," she offered. Lee paused, but took her son and stood to walk over. She handed the boy to Emmett for a moment before going back to get their chairs – and the booster seat.

"So this is the girl my kids have all been talking about so much. It's nice to meet you, Oleander," Carlisle greeted, holding out his hand to be shaken. Edward shot the man a panicked look, but Carlisle just smiled. She didn't comment on his cold hands. It was a doctor thing, she knew from her mother. Edward relaxed as he heard the thought.

"It's nice to meet you too, Dr. Cullen, Mrs. Cullen." Lee couldn't reach Esme to shake her hand, so she nodded her greeting instead, "And please, it's Lee."

"Carlisle, then."

"Esme," the woman agreed sweetly. Like everyone else, it seemed that Lee loved Esme immediately, although she wasn't as taken in by Carlisle's looks as most would be. Rose nodded in self-satisfaction, glad she'd decided to like this human. Edward shot Rosalie a surprised look, as if to say, 'When did you decide that?'.

Rosalie whispered vampirically soft, "While you were giving her flowers." If he could have blushed, he would have at the sideways looks this earned him, but as it was he was still a vampire, and his even family's surprise couldn't bring blood to his cheeks. It still showed enough on his face, though, that Emmett grinned wickedly. There would be much teasing tonight at home.

Carlise asked about her family, starting off the conversation. They learned more than the waitress had, since she considered these people her friends and their parents.

"Chris is awfully quiet," Alice commented.

"Oh, he's a real chatterbox around his little friends. Shy around new people, though. He takes after my grandmother that way."

Esme thought it was cute. She pushed away the rest of her steak. _Too cooked._

"Rose?" Edward asked. She was surprised he'd remembered.

"Wrong side of the family," Lee smiled. "Dorea Black, actually."

She cut up Chris' burger and took a bite of her own food, smiling at the surprised waitress. Marissa shrugged. _More like the Cullens than I thought._

"Hmm. Any relation to Billy Black?" Jasper asked quietly.

"His ex-wife's cousin," she agreed, then clarified, "Her maiden name was Black too. We don't really talk much about Arachnia, though," and then murmured to herself, "Rather appropriately named woman that she is."

"Hmm?" Alice asked, curious. She would've heard it even as a human, being right next the woman (Edward on Oleander's other side).

Lee grimaced, "She wanted to kill off Billy like her previous three husbands. It got ugly, since she came from Old Money. Got custody of Sirius while Billy got nothing. They called her the Black Widow for good reason."

"Ouch," Edward said, wincing humanly. "Sorry."

Oleander shrugged.

"It's no big secret. She died when I was… _oh_, five or so. Tried to kill the wrong husband, I think. Anyway, Grandmother Dorea was much nicer, if a bit old fashioned. I never saw her in a dress above the ankle, certainly. She _infuriated_ Mum."

Jasper felt her amusement and no longer felt so bad. Alice brought conversation round to clothes, particularly where Oleander had gotten hers.

"Unless you want to travel to Africa and Japan, respectively, just for a coat and shirt, I don't recommend shopping where I do," Lee smiled.

"No, I suppose not," Alice said in amusement. She could, if she wanted to.

She then got into a detailed discussion about ethics, religion, and liability in the medical field with Carlisle, while Esme cooed at and amused the baby. Emmett and Rosalie were talking quietly, watching Esme and Chris, while Alice whispered something to Jasper and Edward leaned back to watch with a small smile.

When they went to say their goodbyes, Emmett of course had to comment on the bike. Apparently she'd taken her son by motorcycle.

"Hayabusa GSX1300R?"

"This year's model," she agreed, using a harness to secure her son to her front. "1299cc, four-cylinder, 4-stroke liquid-cooled 16-valve engine, with a constant mesh six-speed transmission." Emmett and Rosalie were impressed.

"How's the suspension?" Rose asked.

"Well, the front suspension is coil spring, inverted telescopic, with fully adjustable spring preload, 13-way adjustable compression damping, 14-way adjustable rebound damping and the back [suspension] is link-type, gas/oil damped, fully adjustable spring preload, 22-way adjustable compression & rebound damping."

"_Nice,_" Rosalie said. Emmett whistled.

"I better get going," Lee said. "It's almost Chris' bedtime."

"Awww," Esme said, "I hope we'll see you again."

"Of course." Yep, she loved Esme. "I don't plan to come into town much, but I live just on the other side of the woods from you if you want to visit."

"I'll do that," Esme smiled.

"It was nice meeting you, Lee. Maybe we can talk again?"

"I'll come by the hospital sometime," she agreed. "Bye everyone!"

If her smile lingered a second longer on the handsome Edward, no on noticed. He watched the neon tube light of her license plate frame fade away.

"Come on loverboy," Emmett teased.

"Never refuse any advance of friendship, for if nine out of ten bring you nothing, one alone may repay you." – Madame de Tencin

***

A/N: I know next to nothing about motorcycles or cars. Parts are **quoted** from the official Suzuki website, as I said in the disclaimer.


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